October 25, 2008; Zanzibar, Tanzania — It has been a while since I updated this blog, but I have been on holiday this week and so I don't feel all that guilty about the delay. Much has happened since our group left Mombasa and arrived in Zanzibar by air on October 10th. The flight was short and uneventful but we did manage to get a wonderful view of the East African coast as we headed out over the Indian Ocean to Zanzibar. Once we arrived, our schedule left us several days to explore Stone Town, the main port and commercial hub of the island.
Stone Town is an extraordinary place that oozes history and—to me at least—seems to have more character than any other point on our itinerary thus far. The old section of town is a dense maze of streets and alleyways with white-washed houses rising up unevenly three or four stories above the street. Bazaar stalls and street vendors can be found in all but the quietest spots. In fact, the streets and walkways are so narrow that the sun’s rays shine only onto certain spots and move in an arc as the hours of the day pass by. The plain white stucco and plaster of the buildings are offset by their stunningly ornate carved wooden doors. These are incredibly intricate and often sport polished brass fittings along with the carvings. The architecture overall is a blend of Arab, Indian, European, and African influences. So are the cuisine, art, clothing, and people. As an historian, I have found Zanzibar endlessly fascinating. It seems like an odd mixture of the French Quarter of New Orleans and some of the southern port cities in India like Goa and Cochin—if only for the dripping humidity, lethargic pace, and atmosphere of elegant decay. Dozens of boats are anchored in the harbor at any given time, ranging from freighters to yachts, trawlers, punts, and dhows. The last of these are a type of Arab sailboat whose design has not changed in centuries. Their most prominent feature is a single triangular sail made from heavy brown canvas. The mere sight of them makes you feel like you have been transported to a different age.
Our first two days in Zanzibar included a walk around Stone Town and visits to some of the more important sites. We did some shopping in the main bazaar on the Creek Road and saw the old fort and the palace museum, remnants of the time when Zanzibar was ruled by the sultans of Oman. The Omani rulers were in power until the late 19th century when the British took over. Zanzibar’s Anglican cathedral was built, deliberately, on the site of the old Arab slave market. Many of the early British explorers—Richard Burton and David Livingstone, in particular—were openly hostile to the Zanzibar Arabs and made no secret of their desire to end the slave trade. In the spot where the slave market once stood are today the remains of some the dungeons and holding areas as well a very touching memorial inside the cathedral to Livingstone for his life’s work in ending the East African slave trade.
Apart from the historical and cultural landmarks, I’ve been in Stone Town long enough now to have also found a few favorite hangouts. The first is the Mercury Café named for Freddie Mercury, the rocker from the band Queen, who was born—of all places—in Zanzibar. I have to admit that the café does play a lot of bad country music for an establishment named after a rock star, but they do serve the best octopus pizza and the coldest beer in town. The view of the harbor is an added bonus. My second preferred relaxation spot is the terrace bar in the Africa House Hotel. How does one describe the place? The decor is like the inside of Rick’s “Café Americain” in the film Casablanca but the characters that frequent the place around sunset are more reminiscent of a Graham Greene novel. There is certainly the usual cohort of tourists but also a cadre of longtime foreign residents who meet in the evening and start drinking. There is an air of mystery and boozy expat decadence about the place that makes one think that in an earlier and more exciting day the bar was a hive of espionage and illicit dealings. Maybe it still is.
Our time in Zanzibar was divided by a three-day trip to the island of Pemba just to the north. After a harrowing overnight ferry ride we arrived on the 12th in Mkoani, the maritime terminal on the south end of the island. We headed north, had breakfast in the port town of Chake Chake, and traveled onward to a spice farm. It was interesting to see the cloves laid out to dry in the sun by the side of the road and to sample cinnamon, tamarind, pepper, cardamom, lavender, lemongrass and other spices straight from the trees and bushes. Cloves are by far the biggest export since they only grow in Zanzibar and Pemba (and one other small island in Indonesia—or so I’m told).
Pemba immediately strikes the first-time visitor as a prelapsarian bliss of lush rolling green hills, turquoise lagoons and inlets, mangrove and palm glades, and farm plots dotted with thatched-roof villages. Many of the students commented that the island seemed like a paradise. Pemba has virtually no tourism (unlike neighboring Zanzibar) and nowhere to be seen were the touts, hustlers, and general hangers-on that are endemic to tourist spots like Stone Town and are a constant source of irritation. One can only hope that tourism does not come to Pemba—though it surely will. Yet, the island is definitely poor and underdeveloped and what seems like idyllic charm to outsiders comes at a price to the inhabitants. There are very few cars on the (surprisingly good) roads and much of the island does not have electricity or running water. Unemployment is high and many families survive on clove exports and remittances sent by relatives working on the mainland. Nevertheless, the people are incredible warm and generous and the students were able to stay with families in the fishing village of Tumbe on the northern end of the island. It was a valuable experience to see people living in such a close community and so seemingly isolated from the rest of the world. It was also a test of our Swahili proficiency to be among people who hardly ever speak English (many do not speak it at all) as well as of our ability to respect and conform to their cultural practices—for example, the women in our group were covered from head to toe in accordance with conservative Muslim practice for most of the time there. These home stays were something of an experiment since no LC East Africa program had ever done anything like this before. In fact, it took weeks of patient and delicate negotiations by David Sperling and Hajj, his contact in Pemba, to make it happen. Yet in the end the response from both the students and villagers was overwhelmingly positive. As a result, the Pemba home stays are likely to become a regular component of future programs.
After the home stays we returned to Zanzibar on the 15th just in time to receive our absentee ballots in a FedEx package from Portland, which the students dutifully completed and sent back two days later. This is the first presidential election in which they have participated, so it was an exciting feeling for them to be part of this process yet on the far side of the world. They also completed David’s history course and took my final exam on Friday—thus completing three of the four courses of the semester. The albatross is now lifted from around their necks and placed onto mine since I now have 23 exams to grade. As one would expect, it was a happy occasion for the students and their temporary liberation began the next day with the start of their week off. Most of the students stayed in Zanzibar to lounge on the beach or bike around the island. I took my own holiday by returning to Pemba. I stayed in a small beach resort on the northern tip of the island and was at last able to spend a bit of time with some people my own age. It was a wonderfully relaxing break. Pemba is as close to the proverbial desert island as I have ever experienced: white powdery beaches surrounded by tropical forests and empty for miles at a stretch, crystal clear water with coral reefs that reach nearly to the surface, and calm tides and a gentle surf with the occasional dhow plying the surface in the distance. The week went by quickly and I returned today to Zanzibar. I will reconnect with the students tomorrow when we reconvene as a group in the village of Kendwa on the northern end of Zanzibar. We leave for the Tanzanian mainland early on Monday to begin the safari component of the program. These last few weeks I am certain will fly by.
Well, that’s it for now. Everyone is well (apart from the usual bouts of illness—nothing too serious). As we begin the safari portion of the program our access to the internet will diminish substantially and, for a few weeks at least, it will be altogether nonexistent. Please understand if we do not email or phone home as often as we have up until now. For my part, I’ll do my best to keep my blog up to date and get caught up when I fall behind. I have a feeling our most exciting and challenging days are still ahead of us.
Our beach landing at Pembe Abwe on the Tanzania coast
Stone Town is an extraordinary place that oozes history and—to me at least—seems to have more character than any other point on our itinerary thus far. The old section of town is a dense maze of streets and alleyways with white-washed houses rising up unevenly three or four stories above the street. Bazaar stalls and street vendors can be found in all but the quietest spots. In fact, the streets and walkways are so narrow that the sun’s rays shine only onto certain spots and move in an arc as the hours of the day pass by. The plain white stucco and plaster of the buildings are offset by their stunningly ornate carved wooden doors. These are incredibly intricate and often sport polished brass fittings along with the carvings. The architecture overall is a blend of Arab, Indian, European, and African influences. So are the cuisine, art, clothing, and people. As an historian, I have found Zanzibar endlessly fascinating. It seems like an odd mixture of the French Quarter of New Orleans and some of the southern port cities in India like Goa and Cochin—if only for the dripping humidity, lethargic pace, and atmosphere of elegant decay. Dozens of boats are anchored in the harbor at any given time, ranging from freighters to yachts, trawlers, punts, and dhows. The last of these are a type of Arab sailboat whose design has not changed in centuries. Their most prominent feature is a single triangular sail made from heavy brown canvas. The mere sight of them makes you feel like you have been transported to a different age.
Our first two days in Zanzibar included a walk around Stone Town and visits to some of the more important sites. We did some shopping in the main bazaar on the Creek Road and saw the old fort and the palace museum, remnants of the time when Zanzibar was ruled by the sultans of Oman. The Omani rulers were in power until the late 19th century when the British took over. Zanzibar’s Anglican cathedral was built, deliberately, on the site of the old Arab slave market. Many of the early British explorers—Richard Burton and David Livingstone, in particular—were openly hostile to the Zanzibar Arabs and made no secret of their desire to end the slave trade. In the spot where the slave market once stood are today the remains of some the dungeons and holding areas as well a very touching memorial inside the cathedral to Livingstone for his life’s work in ending the East African slave trade.
Apart from the historical and cultural landmarks, I’ve been in Stone Town long enough now to have also found a few favorite hangouts. The first is the Mercury Café named for Freddie Mercury, the rocker from the band Queen, who was born—of all places—in Zanzibar. I have to admit that the café does play a lot of bad country music for an establishment named after a rock star, but they do serve the best octopus pizza and the coldest beer in town. The view of the harbor is an added bonus. My second preferred relaxation spot is the terrace bar in the Africa House Hotel. How does one describe the place? The decor is like the inside of Rick’s “Café Americain” in the film Casablanca but the characters that frequent the place around sunset are more reminiscent of a Graham Greene novel. There is certainly the usual cohort of tourists but also a cadre of longtime foreign residents who meet in the evening and start drinking. There is an air of mystery and boozy expat decadence about the place that makes one think that in an earlier and more exciting day the bar was a hive of espionage and illicit dealings. Maybe it still is.
Our time in Zanzibar was divided by a three-day trip to the island of Pemba just to the north. After a harrowing overnight ferry ride we arrived on the 12th in Mkoani, the maritime terminal on the south end of the island. We headed north, had breakfast in the port town of Chake Chake, and traveled onward to a spice farm. It was interesting to see the cloves laid out to dry in the sun by the side of the road and to sample cinnamon, tamarind, pepper, cardamom, lavender, lemongrass and other spices straight from the trees and bushes. Cloves are by far the biggest export since they only grow in Zanzibar and Pemba (and one other small island in Indonesia—or so I’m told).
Pemba immediately strikes the first-time visitor as a prelapsarian bliss of lush rolling green hills, turquoise lagoons and inlets, mangrove and palm glades, and farm plots dotted with thatched-roof villages. Many of the students commented that the island seemed like a paradise. Pemba has virtually no tourism (unlike neighboring Zanzibar) and nowhere to be seen were the touts, hustlers, and general hangers-on that are endemic to tourist spots like Stone Town and are a constant source of irritation. One can only hope that tourism does not come to Pemba—though it surely will. Yet, the island is definitely poor and underdeveloped and what seems like idyllic charm to outsiders comes at a price to the inhabitants. There are very few cars on the (surprisingly good) roads and much of the island does not have electricity or running water. Unemployment is high and many families survive on clove exports and remittances sent by relatives working on the mainland. Nevertheless, the people are incredible warm and generous and the students were able to stay with families in the fishing village of Tumbe on the northern end of the island. It was a valuable experience to see people living in such a close community and so seemingly isolated from the rest of the world. It was also a test of our Swahili proficiency to be among people who hardly ever speak English (many do not speak it at all) as well as of our ability to respect and conform to their cultural practices—for example, the women in our group were covered from head to toe in accordance with conservative Muslim practice for most of the time there. These home stays were something of an experiment since no LC East Africa program had ever done anything like this before. In fact, it took weeks of patient and delicate negotiations by David Sperling and Hajj, his contact in Pemba, to make it happen. Yet in the end the response from both the students and villagers was overwhelmingly positive. As a result, the Pemba home stays are likely to become a regular component of future programs.
After the home stays we returned to Zanzibar on the 15th just in time to receive our absentee ballots in a FedEx package from Portland, which the students dutifully completed and sent back two days later. This is the first presidential election in which they have participated, so it was an exciting feeling for them to be part of this process yet on the far side of the world. They also completed David’s history course and took my final exam on Friday—thus completing three of the four courses of the semester. The albatross is now lifted from around their necks and placed onto mine since I now have 23 exams to grade. As one would expect, it was a happy occasion for the students and their temporary liberation began the next day with the start of their week off. Most of the students stayed in Zanzibar to lounge on the beach or bike around the island. I took my own holiday by returning to Pemba. I stayed in a small beach resort on the northern tip of the island and was at last able to spend a bit of time with some people my own age. It was a wonderfully relaxing break. Pemba is as close to the proverbial desert island as I have ever experienced: white powdery beaches surrounded by tropical forests and empty for miles at a stretch, crystal clear water with coral reefs that reach nearly to the surface, and calm tides and a gentle surf with the occasional dhow plying the surface in the distance. The week went by quickly and I returned today to Zanzibar. I will reconnect with the students tomorrow when we reconvene as a group in the village of Kendwa on the northern end of Zanzibar. We leave for the Tanzanian mainland early on Monday to begin the safari component of the program. These last few weeks I am certain will fly by.
Well, that’s it for now. Everyone is well (apart from the usual bouts of illness—nothing too serious). As we begin the safari portion of the program our access to the internet will diminish substantially and, for a few weeks at least, it will be altogether nonexistent. Please understand if we do not email or phone home as often as we have up until now. For my part, I’ll do my best to keep my blog up to date and get caught up when I fall behind. I have a feeling our most exciting and challenging days are still ahead of us.
Our beach landing at Pembe Abwe on the Tanzania coast
27 October 2008